Passion

There is nothing but the steady

breath of you.

Save the call of cicadas,

we are bare.

Replete, but wary,

we stare at one another.

Nudity awakens us.

the awareness of every

imperfection pounds us,

and we laugh,

for moments ago,

your rough hands

were silk,

and every freckle upon me

was a place you’d yet to discover.

The smoothness of my young

shoulders,

the curve of my throat

were designed for the salt

upon your lips.

Your mouth was satin,

thirsting for my proffered

wine at the secret heart

of me.

You were strong and fearless,

taking what you sought;

I crumbled to dust

beneath you,

unafraid of my destruction.

And here we are,

breathless, wrapped in

nocturnal bliss,

distanced from all but

our flare of passion

and the knowledge

that we shared it.

©culmer2007